


A similarity of tastes

by bertie



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Philadelphia Flyers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-18 00:42:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/873752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertie/pseuds/bertie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke asks something of Claude and he more than delivers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A similarity of tastes

**Author's Note:**

> written on tumblr for derpydrewdoughty

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Claude mumbles as he pulls Luke down for a kiss.

He holds Luke by the hip and keeps him close as their tongues stroke and mingle with one another. Luke cups his hands around Claude’s neck, uses his height to gain the upper hand. Claude falls apart for it, always has, and moans into Luke’s mouth.

“Let’s go to bed,” Luke suggests, nibbling on Claude’s lower lip.

“Yes,” Claude agrees, follows Luke to their bedroom.

Luke tugs Claude in against his chest, works his hands up under the soft t-shirt and eventually gets it off. Claude pushes Luke to sit on the bed, sheds his jeans, and climbs onto his lap.

“You always try to take control,” Claude grumbles, stroking Luke’s face and rubbing his neck gently. “You know you don’t like it.”

Luke says nothing, just closes his eyes and waits. Claude kisses his cheekbone and the arch of his eyebrow, nips the lobe of his ear.

“I want you to strip for me,” Claude says, low and hot and it makes Luke shiver.

“Okay.”

Claude shifts around to lie back against the pillows, arches slightly and then relaxes. He gives Luke a smile somewhere between predatory and encouraging and it gives Luke goosebumps.

“Go ‘head,” Claude encourages, soft and unlike their agreement.

Slowly, Luke pulls his t-shirt up over his head, knows Claude is scrutinizing every little detail of his abdomen and chest and it makes him hard. He lets the material fall from his fingers and goes for his jeans, slides them down slow and let’s them drop. He kicks them away and curls his fingers into his palm to keep himself all there. Claude smiles and it’s devastating and breathtaking and promising of good things to come. Luke crawls up to sit on Claude’s thighs, tucks his head against his shoulder unconsciously.

“Good,” Claude says, quiet and kind of sweet but more thoughtful. “Now, what do you want?”

Luke swallows, never likes answering that question. Claude knows it and he strokes his thumb across Luke’s lower lip.

“Do you want me to rim you?” Claude says it so easily and it still makes Luke turn pink.

“Yes,” Luke forces out. “Yes, please.”

Claude smirks and slides his fingers between the waistband of Luke’s underwear and his skin. “Take these off.”

Luke moves to do so, tosses them over the bed, and notices how his hands are shaking. He presses them to his thighs to make them stop, watches Claude roll gracefully to his knees.

“Down on your elbows,” Claude instructs, and Luke does as he’s told.

Claude is gentle no matter what. He strokes the inside of Luke’s thigh, leaves soft little kisses on his backside and hips. His fingers tickle the crease of his leg and backside, thumb pressing where he knows will make Luke jump.

“Relax, Luke.” The phrase is too curt to be soothing but Luke knows it is for his own good.

He lets the way Claude draws random patterns on the back of his leg loosen his muscles and he enjoys the praising little tap on his backside. Claude pushes Luke’s legs further apart until he is perfectly spread open for him. Luke muffles his noise in the sheets when Claude licks the first thick stripe from his balls to his back. Claude circles his entrance with his tongue, presses just slightly, and Luke fists his hands in the blankets. Between licks and circles and driving Luke wild, Claude leaves little bites on Luke’s backside and sucks carefully on his balls.

“I want to hear you, Luke,” Claude murmurs, and Luke hears him lick his lips. “Don’t stay quiet.”

As Claude circles his entrance again, Luke whimpers and actually whines when Claude pulls away. But Luke absolutely cries out when Claude goes back for more, holding him open and not relenting whatsoever as he presses rhythmically against the muscle. After a moment, Claude pulls back to breathe but pushes a finger against Luke, who makes a quiet noise and kind of relaxes. Claude keeps his finger there, goes back to lick at the pucker until it loosens, and Luke says Claude’s name on a wild gasp. He does that for a long while, until Luke is babbling and crying out and squirming. Luke just arches his back and trembles and calls out for Claude.

“Don’t touch yourself,” Claude says, sitting back and shoving his boxers off. “Turn over.”

Luke does as he’s told, shaking and panting and whimpering despite himself. He loses himself with Claude and he loves it. Claude eases two slick fingers inside Luke, stretches him a little more, and pointedly avoids his prostate.

“Claude, Claude,” Luke says, reaching for Claude and moaning in relief when Claude finally sinks into him.

“You’re doing so well,” Claude praises, pulls Luke’s leg up a little higher to wrap around his waist.

Almost as soon as Claude pulls out and pushes back inside, Luke is on edge. He holds tight to Claude’s shoulders, lets his head fall back and moans when Claude suckles on the tender skin of his throat. Claude pushes one of Luke’s legs back, holds it there to snap his hips a little harder, and Luke chokes on a scream. Only a few more thrusts has Luke coming. He arches his back almost violently and Claude’s name is intermingled with almost pitiful whimpers. Claude follows shortly after, shoving in as far as possible as he comes with an obscene moan.

It takes several minutes before Claude can move. He pulls away carefully, leaves a little kiss on Luke’s chest before climbing off the bed. He returns with a damp cloth and is extra gentle when he cleans Luke up.

“Did I hurt you?” Claude asks when he finally returns to bed. He sounds so worried and nearly heartbroken.

“No, baby, you didn’t hurt me,” Luke assures him, running his fingers through his hair to get it off his face. “Come here.”

Claude presses up against Luke’s side, kisses his face and lips and strokes his hair. “I love you more than anything, always remember that.”

“Claude, honey, I’m perfectly fine. Besides, I asked you for it. We have rules and stipulations and I know you would never purposefully harm me,” Luke soothes, reaching up to stroke the scruff on Claude’s cheek. “For such a rough-and-tumble, protective man you sure are a worrier.”

Claude’s cheeks turn pink, but he just kisses Luke firmly. “But you reassure me, which is all I need.”

Luke smiles and rolls Claude onto his back, covers him with his bulk and grins. “I think you look better like this.”

“Not on your life,” Claude scoffs, although they both know that isn’t true.

Claude falls apart for Luke dominating him, not in the same way Luke enjoys, but a sweeter and gentler way. Luke enjoys those times as well, but comes a lot quicker for Claude’s “Captain Voice.” Luke bends to kiss Claude all soft and nice like he loves and Claude melts. He makes those quiet little noises of his and curls around Luke.

“Look at you,” Luke purrs, enjoys the way it makes Claude flush and try to catch his breath. “God, I love you.”

Claude just whimpers and pulls Luke down, rolls them again so he’s straddling Luke. He pulls away to grin down at Luke, leaves a quick kiss on his jaw.

“I love you, too.”


End file.
